


Rotten Summer

by beachytablecloth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, all others are to the side, also the only main characters are ot5, the rest are to the side, ziam is the main pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3921796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachytablecloth/pseuds/beachytablecloth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Listen, Zayn--I know you must hate me, and I don't even blame you, but... please. Please can we just get out of here tonight, like we used to?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Zayn stares back at the boy in front of him. He's a mess; his dark eyes pleading and full of pain. And fuck, if Zayn could ever say no to Liam, tonight is not the moment he's about to start.</em><br/> <br/><em>(It also could have something to do with how </em>young<em> Liam looks right now)</em></p><p><em>"Where do you want to go?"</em> </p><p>---</p><p>Zayn and Liam were childhood best friends. After not seeing each other for three years, Liam is back in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TODAY I FEEL SO TAME

**Author's Note:**

> hey there!  
> 1\. this is my first published fic, so i will really love any feedback!  
> 2\. i don't know or own one direction ya know ya know  
> enjoy!

Zayn wakes up to his alarm going off—a loud, obnoxious, jarring sound that he still manages to sleep through half the time. He debates pressing the snooze button, but as he's done it twice already and it's almost 9:30, he shuts it off and begins peeling blankets off himself instead. He's got about a half hour until he's due at work, and if he lets himself fall back asleep now, there's no possible way he'd arrive on time.

Still, he somehow manages to be late, arriving at the restaurant at 10:17 after speeding there in record time. He parks in the back and enters through back kitchen door, receiving only a mildly irritated look from his manager, Paul. Mornings aren't Zayn's thing, and this being his third summer working here, Paul's pretty accustomed to Zayn showing up late. Bailey's is the local bar and grille, probably the most popular one in the small town of Bradford. Paul, a family friend of the Malik's, got Zayn his job there when he was sixteen, and he's always been extra lenient towards him.

Zayn joins the group of servers, busing staff, and cooks gathered around Paul as he gives the morning meeting. He slides next to Cher, and bumps her shoulder in greeting.

"Malik, I swear, if any one of us but you showed up late every day, we'd be canned so fast," she whispers, her lips quirking upward in a small smile. 

"Well, you know, I practically run this place, so there's no chance of me getting the boot!" he snickers back at her.

"Our soups for today are chicken noodle and broccoli cheddar, and the special for lunch is the ribeye steak. Should be your typical Wednesday lunch rush; I think we'll have a good day!" The group begins to dissipate, everyone heading towards their stations to get ready for the rest of the day. 

"Oh, and I almost forgot," Paul continues, "We've got a new server starting today. Harry Styles, new to town, and hired for the summer." Paul references towards a tall, thin boy, with curly brown hair and bright green eyes. "I'm sure you'll all be very welcoming and helpful to him as he gets his bearings... Alright, that's all. Everyone get ready to open."

Zayn follows the rest of the servers as they trail out the kitchen doors out into the restaurant. 

"Malik, come here for a minute!" Paul calls. Zayn turns around and walks toward him, wondering if maybe this time Paul's actually going to yell at him.

"I thought you could train our Harry, here," he gestures towards the curly-haired boy--Harry. "Harry, this is Zayn. Despite his problems with punctuality, he's actually one of our best servers. He's been here for a while, and he should be able to show you the ropes just fine." Paul glances between them and then walks off, leaving Zayn with his new shadow for the day.

Zayn sighs. It's not that Zayn hates meeting new people, it's just that he'd rather hang around with people he already knows and is comfortable around. Growing up in a small town has saved him from really ever having to socialize with people he didn't know; here, everyone knows everyone. Plus, it's annoying training newbies. He knows it's not their fault, but they tend to suck at their job for at least the first two weeks, and Zayn only has so much patience.

He looks back over at Harry and finds wide eyes looking at him, a tentative smile splayed across his lips. He reminds Zayn a bit of a puppy, and he's immediately endeared. Maybe this won't be so bad. 

\---

It's pretty bad.

As kind and eager to learn as Harry is, he's also incredibly uncoordinated and, quite simply, an awful waiter. He's been shadowing Zayn all day, and Zayn has had him practice carrying out drinks and a few plates as well. He's tripped, spilled drinks and bumped into other servers, getting more and more flustered with each incident. By the time it's their break and they're sitting at the table in the break room together, eating chips, Harry’s enthusiasm has noticeably deflated, and they sit in silence.

Feeling awkward, and a slight sense of pity for the boy, Zayn tries to make conversation.

"So, uh, you just moved here then?" Zayn starts. Harry looks up.

"Yeah. My mum, my sister and I. From Cheshire... we've been here about two weeks now."

"You like it so far?"

"Yeah, it's good... I mean, I've just kind of been sitting at home. Actually, that's why my mum made me go out and look for work. She wanted me out of the house." Harry smiles. "This is the first place that would have me... guess I'm not really destined for waiter greatness, though." He laughs, Zayn gives him a smile. "Actually, back home, I worked in a bakery, and believe it or not, I was pretty good at that..."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you'll catch on here. It's only your first day. You know, just don't give up... if at first you don't succeed, try try again and all that..." Zayn cringes. He never really knows what to say to comfort people and he always ends up blabbing and spouting clichés. Harry gives him a funny look, and is about to open is mouth to respond, and it's then that his phone buzzes— _saved by the bell_ , he thinks.

 **Louis:** _zaaayn, im starving :(_

 **Zayn:** _mate, i cant keep giving u free food!_

 **Louis:** _:( :( :(_

 **Zayn:** _alright, fine, but only if u get here in the next 10 min before my break ends!!! i'll give u the rest of my chips_

 **Louis:** be there in 5 :) xxxx

Zayn and Harry continue chatting through the rest of their break. Harry's easy to talk to, and funny in a witty sort of way. Zayn decides that he likes Harry. When Louis gets there five minutes later, Zayn sneaks him in through the back door of the kitchen, careful not to bring too much attention to themselves as they make their way to the break room. They're quite practiced in this; Louis has been mooching food off of Zayn since he started working at Bailey's three years ago. 

They enter the break room where Harry is sitting at the small table, looking at his phone. Zayn quickly grabs his basket of unfinished chips and shoves it into Louis' hands.

"Alright! Get out of here before Paul comes looking for me! My break ends--" He pauses to check the time on his phone "--two minutes ago."

"Aw, Zayn, mate, it's like you don't even want to hang out with me." Louis whines, teasing.

Zayn rolls his eyes, and starts pushing Louis towards the door.

"Wait, wait. Who's this?" Louis asks, a sly tone to his voice, looking at Harry with a look that Zayn has seen many times before.

“Louis—“ Zayn tries to stop him, but Louis saunters over towards Harry anyway.

“Hey,” he says, leaning his weight on the table. “I’m Louis,” he says, flashing a bright smile towards Harry. “You’re new?”

Harry looks up, slightly flustered. “I, uh, yeah, just moved here a couple weeks ago,” he clears his throat, “my name’s Harry.” He finishes awkwardly.

“Well, it’s certainly nice to meet you, Harry.” Louis says, with a wink. Louis really can be a flirt sometimes.

“Yeah, yeah you too."

Louis goes to answer, but Zayn interrupts him.

“Well, Louis, we’ve got to get back to work now!” Zayn says, pushing him out of the break room, through the kitchen and towards the back door.

“Bye, Harry! It was lovely to have met you!” Louis calls over Zayn’s shoulder. “Christ, he’s fit,” he mutters to Zayn, once they’re alone by the kitchen door.

“Oh no you don’t! He seems like a good kid, and you’re not gonna fuck around with him, okay?”

“Jeez, Z, what’s got you all protective?”

“I don’t know, mate… I’ve been talking to him all day and he’s a good kid. Like, real smart and proper funny and good. Just, good. So don’t mess with him, okay? Plus, he’s only seventeen, so he’s too young for you anyway.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You know that saying, Zaynie, age is just a number…”

“Get out.” Zayn pushes him out the door and into the parking lot.

“Love you!” Louis calls as Zayn shuts the door. Zayn smiles back at him, despite himself.

\---

The rest of the day goes about as smoothly as it could possibly go, considering Harry is quite the disaster. Zayn gets off before the dinner shift and heads home. He drives with the windows down; it’s a beautiful June day, and he can’t help but enjoy the weather and be in a good mood.

When he opens his front door, he’s immediately met with the familiar smell of his mother’s cooking. As excited as Zayn is to leave for Uni in the fall, he knows he will terribly miss his mum (and her amazing food).

Dinner is spicy chicken and jokes with his sisters and warm smiles from his parents. Zayn’s always been close with his family, and being only a few months from moving away has made him appreciate them even more. He thinks it’ll be weird to go several days without bickering with his sisters or hearing his father’s hearty laugh.

After cleaning up dinner (and, of course, fighting with his sisters over who’s done their fair share of dishes), Zayn texts Louis to see what’s going on for the night.

There may not be too much to do in Bradford since it’s such a small town, but summers can be pretty fun. There’s always some kind of party or get together, and having grown up with most of the kids here, there’s always someone to hang out with.

Plus, life is never boring with Louis Tomlinson as a best friend.

\---

A few hours later, and Zayn is stoned, sitting around a bonfire in Jesy's back garden. There's a group of about 12 of them, all friends Zayn has grown up with and gone to school with. They are all piled together, blankets strew across them, soft music playing from some location Zayn can't really find right now. Louis is loud and bright and drunk, currently trying to convince everyone that they  _have to go pool hopping right now!!_ Louis is always up to something, and it's usually mischievous, and most likely a little illegal as well. 

All pretty fucked up, and unable to ever say no to a pleading Louis, a group of them agree to join Louis in his pool hopping quest. Zayn's not really much of a swimmer (terrified of drowning, actually, but who asked you), so he bums a ride off of Josh, who was sober for the night (poor guy). 

He falls asleep wrapped in the smells of the bonfire and the cool summer air, the sounds of his friends laughter replaying in his mind and lulling him to sleep. 

\---

The next day, Zayn has a day off, and he spends a good portion of it sleeping. When he wakes up, he walks into the kitchen, finding Safaa sitting at the counter, eating cereal and watching Spongebob reruns. He kisses her forehead and ruffles her hair as he passes, earning himself a small, indignant "hey".  He pours himself a bowl, and sits with her for a while, enjoying the simple fact that he has absolutely nothing to do all day. His parents are at work, so he doesn't even have to worry about chores.

On his days off, Zayn always likes to paint. It's not every day that he has the time to do it, so he tries his best to appreciate it and take advantage of it when he can. He paints for hours, just sort of anything that comes to his mind, until his hand is aching and his eyes are sore from the strain. He's tired, but it's a good kind of tired--he feels drained in the best possible way.

That night, while laughing around the dinner table, Zayn thinks that if his whole life could be days like today, he'd be a pretty happy man.

\---

A few days later, Zayn is swamped at work. Friday nights were always busy at the restaurant. Bradford was a small town, and locals tended to frequent the same places each week.

Zayn was exhausted. He was halfway through his second shift. He had picked up Jade’s dinner shift because she had a date and had asked him nicely (Zayn was never good at resisting puppy eyes), which meant he was still at the restaurant, even though he had worked through breakfast and lunch already. At least Jade is a hostess, so he’s up at the front of the restaurant for the dinner rush instead of waiting on tables like he had all day. Customer after customer trickle in, and Zayn seats each party. He recognizes most of the customers, engaging with them in pleasantries and small talk.

At around 7:30, Harry trips and spills an entire tray of drinks onto the very table he was delivering them to. It would probably be funny, if Zayn weren’t so tired and Harry didn’t look so upset with himself. Zayn rushes to help him clean it up, and quickly appeases the group of girls at the table by offering them free dessert. He helps Harry carry the mess back to the kitchen, and delegates a busboy to finish cleaning the table.

Harry turns to him with wide eyes, almost on the verge of tears.

“Zayn, I’m so sorry I’m so rubbish at this—“

“Harry, mate, relax. It’s okay, everyone spills shit, especially on their first ever dinner shift. It’s tough working busy nights; it’s not a big deal.”

Harry doesn’t look convinced, though, and he’s still staring at Zayn with huge puppy eyes. Fuck puppy eyes.

“Listen, you remember that older woman you served the other day? Mrs. Penchart, basically the meanest, rudest person you’ll ever meet? Well she’s been coming here for years, and on my first shift three years ago, I spilt an entire bowl of chicken soup on her lap, and she threw such a fit that she _still_ won’t let me serve her, even today.”

Harry’s face brightens, and he laughs softly. “Yeah, I guess it’s not so bad, in comparison.”

“Seriously, mate, she won’t even look in my direction.”

Harry full out laughs now, clearly cheered up. “I’ll be sure to never get on her bad side, then. I, uh, better get back out there.” Zayn gives him a soft smile and nods.

Harry walks to the kitchen door, pausing right before he leaves to turn around. “Thanks, Zayn,” he says, giving him a meaningful look and then leaving through the door.

Zayn checks his phone—7:43—and takes a deep breath. Closing time is 10:30, he’s only got a few more hours and then he can rush home and collapse in bed. Picturing his many pillows and soft, warm blankets, he leaves the kitchen and works his way back to the host stand. Perrie’s there, leading a large group of teenagers only a few years below him away from the stand and towards a table in the back. As the large group clears, Zayn arrives behind the host stand, and locks eyes with the boy standing in front of him.

His heart jumps and his knees nearly give out, a shiver running throughout his entire body. He can’t believe who he sees standing right in front of him. For a second, it’s like an exact scene out of a dream he’s had over and over.

But no, it’s real, and the boy (well, man, really) standing in front of him, staring back with eyes that mirror his own shock, is real.

 _Liam_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter and the title of the entire fic is from rotten summer by secret colours, definitely give it a listen!
> 
> thank you for reading :)


	2. I'VE GOT ALL THIS RINGING IN MY EARS BUT NONE ON MY FINGERS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam is back. Zayn freaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update is a bit later than i said it would be! x

Zayn continues to stare at Liam, completely frozen and at a loss of how to act. His mind is spinning, his heart pounding, and he feels a bit faint. Time seems to stand still, and everything but the boy in front of him fades and blurs, even the sounds of the restaurant muffled. 

Liam has changed a lot in three years; he’s taller, broader, and (fuck) hotter, but Zayn would recognize him anywhere. His hair is buzzed short, and he’s wearing a tight black t-shirt that hugs his chest and shows off his built arms. He’s staring back at Zayn with scared brown eyes, eyes that make it clear he was not expecting to see Zayn tonight. 

Zayn has been waiting for this moment for three years, and he can’t bring himself to speak, or even move. 

He’s snapped out of his trance when he realizes there’s a blond boy to Liam’s right, speaking at him with a thick Irish accent. 

“ ‘Scuse me, uh, can we get a table for two?” 

Zayn’s eyes snap to the blonde. “Uh, sorry?” 

“Can we get a table for two, please?” 

“I--, right, yeah, yeah.” He begins scrambling, picking up menus and place settings with shaking hands. Zayn looks back up and dares a glance at Liam, only to find that he’s pointedly avoiding making eye contact. 

Zayn leads them to a booth and sets down the menus. They settle in, Liam still avoiding Zayn’s eyes. Zayn, however, can’t look away, can’t stop staring at this boy he never thought he’d see again. 

He can feel the blonde looking at him with curiosity, but he doesn’t stop looking at Liam. Finally, Liam lifts his head, looking up at Zayn with cold, distant, eyes, practically staring straight through him, as if he weren’t there. The look has shivers covering Zayn’s body again, and spikes a nauseas feeling in his stomach.

Zayn takes a slight step back, and quickly states “Your server will be with you soon”, before practically running into the kitchen. 

He almost collides with a stress-ridden Harry in his hurry to _get the fuck out of here right now_. 

“Woah, Zayn, you okay?” 

“I, Harry… I don’t feel well. Could you tell Paul that I had to go home?” Zayn spits out, not stopping to see if Harry agreed. He rushes out the back door into the employee parking lot, digging his keys out of his pocket as he heads towards his car. 

\-- 

Zayn speeds to Louis’ house, not even realizing where he’s going until he’s halfway there. He pulls into their driveway and quickly runs up to their front door, knocking hurriedly and repeatedly.

Jo opens the door, a surprised look on her face. 

“Zayn, dear, didn’t realize you were coming over tonight?” 

“Hi Jo, sorry, but is Louis home?” 

“He’s up in his bedroom—are you alright, Zayn?” 

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m—sorry, but I just really need to speak to Louis.”

“Alright, go ahead on up”

Zayn slides past her, pausing only for a moment to give her what he hopes is at least a semi-reassuring smile. He takes the stairs two steps at a time, and runs down the hallway until he’s met with Louis’ door. He barges right in, not bothering to knock.

Louis is sprawled out on his bed, his eyes glued to his phone now snapping up to regard Zayn with surprise.

“Zayn, what the fuck? Wait, I thought you said you were working late tonight?”

“Liam’s back.”

Louis drops his phone, jerking up into a sitting position; his blue eyes widen.

“What?!” 

“Liam. Is back.” Zayn struggles to keep his voice steady.

“What do you mean, he’s _back_?”

“I mean, he’s here, in town. Right now.”

“How do you know?”

“I just saw him. Just fucking seated him and some Irish bloke at the restaurant.” His voice is shaking now, and he can tell he’s close to breaking. “He looked at me like he didn’t even see me, and I left as soon as I could.”

They look at each other for a moment, Louis in shock and attempting to process what he’s just heard. 

“I--. I don’t really know what to say…Fuck.” He shakes his head, his fringe falling into his eyes. “I thought he didn’t even come back here for summer? I thought he always went to Norfolk with his family…”

Zayn can’t speak. His heart is pounding again, and he can feel a lump forming in his throat.

“Z, mate, are you alright?”

Zayn brings his eyes to meet Louis’ very concerned expression. He shakes his head, feeling his resolve crumble, and hot tears brimming his eyes.

As his vision blurs and tears begin to stream, he feels Louis’ arms wrap around him.

“He looked at me like he didn’t even care, Louis, like he didn’t even care.”

“Shh, Z, shh.”

\---

They’re curled up in Louis’ bed, an hour and two cups of tea later. Zayn feels full body tired, like he always does after he cries, and while he still feels like shit, he’s exhausted and warm under the covers and could probably fall asleep right here next to Louis.

“Fuck him. I mean, who the fuck does he think he is, just coming back here after not speaking to us for three years? And he just waltzes into _your workplace_ , and acts like he doesn’t even know you? Fuck him.”

“He wasn’t acting like he didn’t know me, Lou. He was just as shocked as I was, at first…But then, I don’t know… he just looked at me with this cold expression on his face. Like he recognized me, but he didn’t care.” He winces.

It hurts so much more than he thought it would, seeing Liam again. It’s been almost three years, and Zayn’s had a lot of time to think and work through things, but seeing Liam again has made his wounds fresh. It’s dredged up all the painful emotions and memories that he’s pushed down. Worst of all, despite the heartache he’s feeling, he’s already longing to see Liam again, to see _more_ of this new person he’s become. He wants to hear his voice, and he wants to find out if his hands are still soft or if they’re calloused and strong now, and he wants to know if his eyes still squeeze shut when he laughs really hard. Because damn, he really hates Liam, and hates the pain he’s caused him these past years, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit how much he missed him despite it all.

But then again, it’s been a long time. And the look Liam gave him was definitely not one his warm brown eyes from three years ago would have ever shown. Maybe the Liam Zayn knew is gone.

“I’m going to be in so much trouble at work,” Zayn mumbles, “after leaving like I did.”

“Please, Paul loves you. You get away with murder under his watch. Now come on, let me kick your ass at Fifa.”

They play for a few hours, and Zayn almost feels better. Every few minutes or so, though, he remembers about Liam, and feels a pang of anxiety shoot through him.

“You staying here tonight?” Louis asks after beating Zayn for the umpteenth time.

“Nah, I should probably head home,” Zayn replies, after checking his phone and seeing that it’s 11:04pm, and also that he has two missed calls and three texts from his mum.

\---

He drives home smoking a cigarette, even though he keeps telling himself that this is the summer he’s going to quit the habit. He’s so tense, though, and can’t shake the uneasy feeling that has sat in the pit of his stomach ever since he met eyes with Liam.

When he walks in his house, he finds his mother asleep on the couch. He wakes her up and apologizes for worrying her, saying he had gone to Louis’ house after work and had completely forgotten to check his phone or text her. (And that’s believable, actually, because Zayn is pretty shit sometimes at keeping track of his phone.)

(He doesn’t tell her about Liam. He doesn’t see the point. They hadn’t mentioned his name in their house for years).

He goes to his bedroom and flings himself face-first onto his bed, not bothering to undress or even brush his teeth. He rolls over and pulls the covers over him, and squeezes his eyes shut.

And tonight, unlike any other night, he allows himself to fall asleep thinking of Liam.

\---

_Zayn’s heart is racing and he’s struggling to catch his breath. He’s crouching behind a shed, panting, waiting, listening. It’s dark, the sun had set almost an hour ago, and the summer air is cool._

_Manhunt was one of their favorite summertime activities. They would always get a huge group together, and the games would last hours, and span over several streets (they used to play without boundaries—that is until one time they couldn’t find Josh for four hours and they found out he had somehow gotten a ride to the next town over. Idiot)._

_Zayn’s team is hiding, and he had sprinted through several back gardens to try and find the perfect hiding spot—one far enough away that he wouldn’t be found, but close enough that he could sprint to the base if he needed to._

_It’s quiet, except for the chirping of crickets. He listens for any sounds of motion, ready to make a run for it if he needs to._

_Suddenly, he hears a rustling in the bushes to his right. He looks over, and can just barely make out Liam crouching behind a row of shrubs and hedges._

_Zayn weighs his options. Liam’s a fast runner, so if Zayn runs, Liam could probably catch up to him easily. But, if he stays here behind the shed, he’s a sitting duck, and Liam could easily circle around and find him._

_He decides to run. As quietly as he can, he takes off, sprinting back towards home base. He cuts out to the street, hoping to find a more direct route there. He can hear Liam behind him, quickly catching up. He crosses the street, taking shelter behind a line of trees, still running as fast as he can._

_Suddenly, there’s a hand on his back, tugging on his shirt, causing him to trip and tumble down to the grass. Liam’s body collides with his, their momentum sending them forward, and they’re rolling down a hill together, the world spinning around them, their laughs loud in the quiet night. They finally stop, and Zayn’s dizzy, whether it’s from the tumbling or the fact that Liam landed directly on top of him and is now staring into his eyes, his face inches away from his own, Zayn doesn’t know._

_They don’t talk, just stare at each other, both of them panting, trying to catch their breath. Liam doesn’t make any moves to get off of Zayn, and slowly, so slowly that Zayn can’t even believe it’s happening, Liam leans in and softly presses his lips against Zayn’s. He pulls back after a moment, and just smiles at Zayn, that genuine, beautiful smile that makes Zayn’s whole body feel warm. He starts to get up, but before he can, Zayn pulls him back down to him, connecting their lips again—_

Zayn wakes up in a sweat, the taste of Liam still fresh on his lips, lingering there like a phantom limb. It had been a while since he’d dreamt of Liam, since he’d remembered the adolescent summer nights they had shared.

It wasn’t like he never thought of him. It wasn’t like he never came across an old picture of them at age five, and thought, _fuck, I miss him_. That happened. It’s just that he tried his best to not dwell on it. But now, with Liam back in town, he’s been all Zayn’s able to think about since he saw him. He just keeps replaying the scene in the restaurant over and over again, wondering why Liam didn’t say anything, or why he couldn’t bring himself to speak up either.

\---

Zayn spends the day doing everything he can to _stop thinking about Liam, dammit_.

In the morning, he tries to paint, but finds himself unable to stop his mind from wandering. He gives up after he’s thrown away three rough paintings that ended up looking suspiciously like a certain Liam Payne.

He tries to watch some television, but finds he can’t focus on that for long. He picks up one of his favorite novels, _Alice in Wonderland_ , and tries to busy himself with reading his favorite passages, but even that’s no help.

He texts Louis, but he’s at work until 6. His parents are at work. His sisters are off with friends. He’s home alone, and has no one to distract him from the thoughts of Liam that keep creeping to the front of his mind, incessant, like an itch that he can’t scratch.

He just needs answers, he decides. He doesn’t need to be friends with him again, or bring him back into his life in any way, but he does need to know things. He needs to know why Liam is suddenly back after so long. He needs to know why Liam never called or wrote or even facebooked him. He needs to know why it was so easy for Liam to cut Zayn out of his life, when for Zayn, Liam’s absence felt like he was literally missing a part of himself, like Liam had taken part of Zayn with him when he left. 

Maybe, once he knows those things, he’ll be able to pack Liam back into the corner of his mind where those thoughts of him have stayed all these years, and he’ll be able to move on with his life. 

He has a sinking feeling that that won’t work, though.

The thing is, Zayn is just so _drawn_ to Liam. It’s always been that way, some kind of magnetism pulling them together. They’d known each other practically their whole lives, and it was always easy with them. So easy, and simple. Like letting yourself float with the current of a river. Natural.

So Zayn knows, he just _knows_ , that having Liam within reach again, after so, so long—well, it’ll be really fucking hard to stay away.

He has to try, though. Drawn as he is to Liam, Zayn does have some sense of self-preservation, and knows that having Liam back in his life would only eventually cause him pain.

Not that Liam would even want to see Zayn, or be a part of his life again. Fuck, he’s getting ahead of himself, and for no good reason, either. Liam probably wants nothing to do with Zayn—his past behavior has made that pretty clear.

_Answers_ , he chants, like a mantra. _That’s all I’m going for, that’s it_.

\--- 

So, yeah, Zayn wants answers. But he has absolutely no idea how to go about getting them. He sure as hell isn’t going to go after Liam himself, so he decides to start indirectly—with gossip. It’s a small town, people talk.

He heads down to the retail store where Louis works—(Louis _hates_ it. He definitely does not have the proper temperament for customer service)—because he’s too antsy to wait until his shift is over.

He walks in, the bell on the door ringing over his head. He spots Louis standing at a table in the back, slowly and sloppily folding jeans, a look of pure boredom painted across his face. Louis smiles wide when he looks up and sees Zayn walking towards him, an exaggerated look of gratefulness in his eyes.

“How’s it going?”

“Mate, you have no idea. I’m so fucking bored,” Louis answers, grimacing and speaking softly. “And my manager’s an absolute arse, said if he caught me on my phone one more time I’d be out of a job.”

Zayn suppresses a laugh, attempting to be as sympathetic as he can. “Sounds like a dick.”

“Yeah, yeah he really is. Anyway, not that I’m not happy to see you, but is there any particular reason why you’re here on your day off, instead of sleeping or painting or smoking or whatever else you could be doing right now?”

Zayn clears his throat, shuffling his feet and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He keeps his eyes down as he answers, finding himself a little embarrassed, wanting to play it cool, even though he knows Louis will see right through it. “It’s, um, it’s about Liam, actually." 

He looks back up at Louis, meeting tense blue eyes holding something that looks a bit too much like pity. “Yeah, uh, how’re you doing with all of that?” 

“I—“ Zayn begins, unsure of how much he’d like to share. Best to keep the details to himself, he decides. “…I just can’t stop thinking about him. Can’t get him out of my head, and it’s kind of been driving me a little crazy.”

Louis just keeps looking at him. 

“I think, um, I think I just need to know what’s going on, you know? Like, why he’s here, and stuff…” Zayn admits, a little uncomfortable.

Like, Louis has been there through it all, he knows all the shit that went down with Liam, and he’s quite literally been the shoulder than Zayn has cried on. But, still, Zayn doesn’t love being vulnerable, doesn’t love confronting all these emotions he’d stuffed down three years ago. It’s hard for him.

“Okay,” Louis replies, slowly. “Does that mean you want to talk to him, Z? Because I’m not sure if that’s the best idea…”

“No, no no,” Zayn quickly denies, a spike of panic shooting through his stomach at the very thought of it. “No. Really, I was just coming here to see if you’d heard anything about him… I mean, I’m sure people are talking about it?”

“So you’re coming to me because you know how much I love my gossip?” Louis teases, lessening the tension a tad.

Zayn bites down a smile, feeling like he can breathe a little bit easier. “Yeah, Tommo, come on, fess up. Give me all the juicy details.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Well, Z, seeing as I’ve literally gone nowhere today but come here to work, I’ve got nothing for ya, but I’ll ask around, see what’s going on.”

“Thanks, Louis.” And Zayn means it. Louis and Liam were friends as well, he knows this can’t be easy for Louis either. “Really, thanks.”

Louis looks at him, an understanding look on his face. “No problem, bro.”

\---

Later that night around 11, as Zayn is lying in bed trying to fall asleep, his phone buzzes with a text from Louis.

_I talked to Cher, who said she talked to Liam last night while she served him at the restaurant. His family’s at their home at the beach for the summer, but he’s staying here for the summer without them._

Damn. Louis works fast.

_Oh, and that kid who was with him? Someone he knows from school. That’s all I’ve got, sorry :( xx_

So, Liam is here for the summer for some unknown reason, and he’s got someone he goes to school with staying with him? Probably one of his new friends, a replacement for him and Louis and all the other Bradford kids Liam grew up with.

Jealousy begins to pool in the pit of Zayn’s stomach, before he can remind himself that he doesn’t care about Liam anymore.

He texts Louis back a quick “ _Thanks, you’re the best xx_ ” and puts his phone on the nightstand, throwing a pillow over his face.

He’s got a bit more information, but really, it’s not much. He still doesn’t know _why_ Liam chose to come back here, and why now? Why not earlier?

A very tiny, tiny part of him—and he’d deny it if you’d ask him—wants to hope that maybe Liam came back because he missed Zayn.

Probably not, though.

So he tucks that hope away, back into the far corners of his heart, along with the memories of crinkling brown eyes and quick, stolen kisses.

He doesn’t let himself think about it. Can’t think that way.

Apparently nobody told his subconscious, though, because he spends the night tossing and turning, falling in and out of dreams and rose-hued memories of the boy that was once the center of his world.

It’s going to be a long summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're enjoying it so far... please comment and let me know what you think?
> 
> the title of this chapter is from fall out boy's song of the same name. give it a listen.
> 
> thank you for reading xx


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